Description: SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 54 kg (120 lbs) with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject’s size and shape is easily malleable and can change shape at will, though when at rest, SCP-999 becomes a rounded, oblate dome roughly 2 meters wide and 1 meter in height. The surface of SCP-999 consists of a thin, transparent membrane similar to that of an animal cell roughly .5 cm thick, and is highly elastic, allowing SCP-999 to flatten portions of its body up to 2 cm thin. This surface is also hydrophobic, although SCP-999 can willfully absorb liquids (see Addendum SCP-999-A). The rest of SCP-999's body is filled with a viscous orange substance of unknown chemical makeup, though it is capable of digesting organic materials with ease. Subject’s temperament is best described as playful and dog-like: when approached, SCP-999 will often react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, “hugging” them with a pair of pseudopods while nuzzling the person’s face with a third pseudopod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor that differs with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh™. Simply touching SCP-999’s surface causes an immediate mild euphoria, which intensifies the longer one is exposed to SCP-999, and lasts long after separation from the creature. Subject’s favorite activity is "tickle-wrestling", often by completely enveloping a person from the neck down and tickling them until asked to stop (though it does not always immediately comply with this request). Though injuries may occur, SCP-999 has never been found to purposefully attempt to harm others, and will immediately back away and contract its body into a quivering mound while gurgling in a matter similar to a whimpering dog, seemingly "apologizing" for hurting someone on accident. While the creature will interact with anyone, it seems to have a special interest in those who are unhappy or hurt in any way. Persons suffering from crippling depression or PTSD, for example, have reported having a far more positive outlook on life after multiple interactions with SCP-999. The possibility of manufacturing antidepressants from SCP-999's slime is currently being discussed. In addition to its playful behavior, SCP-999 seems to love all animals (especially humans), refusing to eat any meat and even risking its own life to save others, on one occasion leaping in front of a person to take a bullet fired at them (subject’s intellect is still up for debate: though its behavior is infantile, it seems to understand human speech and most modern technology, including guns). SCP-999’s diet consists entirely of candy and sweets, with M&M’s™ and Necco™ wafers being its favorites. Its eating methods are similar to those of an amoeba.